


Morning Shine

by Alliswell



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:46:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alliswell/pseuds/Alliswell
Summary: Sequel to Dead of Night





	1. The Miracle of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, written after information readily available I varios sources. 
> 
> Beta read by RunOn (kleeklutch @ tumblr), who graciously allowed me to run this idea by her, and Scienced the shisnet out of it! Thank you dear, you are simple awesome!
> 
> Here is hoping this introduction will peak your curiosity!!!

   

 

 

> "John, that kind of control you're attempting, It's not possible. Listen, If there's one thing the history of evolution has taught us is that life won't be contained! Life breaks free at expense of your territory, crashing through barriers painfully, even dangerously. But, well, there it is... No, I'm simply saying, that **life** , uh, **finds a way**..."
> 
> Dr. Ian Malcom, (Jurassic Park, 1993)
> 
>  

> * * *

 

A tiny tadpole-like gamete humbly lies in suspended repose in a sea of its siblings, lazily riding the soft tide that keeps moving in the warm darkness of its home, oblivious to its purpose or importance in the game of life.

  
Curious thing, the gamete, it ignores where it came from or how long it has existed for, yet it remembers genetic information in its slim body passed down like a baton from parent to child since the beginning of times, information that will define among other things: appearance, gender, even hereditary health conditions. The gamete doesn't know it, but it carries half of the pieces of an intricate puzzle embedded in its genetic material, that potentially could form a diploid once it's purpose has been reached.

  
It doesn't matter. No gamete is self-aware, not even when it's called forward for the big race.

  
And then, Home starts to rumble! Expectation riles up the millions of gametes congregated in their station. Temperatures rise, making the tide shift and roar violently causing all the gametes to tip back and forth like tiny ships on a turbulent ocean. Our gamete follows the tide steadily, merely floating together with its siblings in one viscous clump.

  
A pulse vibrates the gamete's whole world, and like the tick-tock of a clock, instinct kicks in, stirring and waking the tiny gamete to action. It’s flat disc-like head stays a course blindly ahead, while its whip-like tail lashes in an elliptical motion, propelling itself forward.

  
The race starts abruptly, thousands of gametes rush out into the unknown, all of them have only one goal: find fertile ground to root in.

  
Zigzagging forward, dark and blind. Hundreds, thousands, millions, slick, white, minute and light, flash through dark tunnels, rush 'round sharp bends, swim up and down rapids and streams, bumping, crashing, overtaking each others while the weaker fall behind.

  
The gametes are built for speed, a necessity really, as their only job is to make a mad dash at breakneck speeds, to the finish line.

  
The tremors of Home shake everything around, and suddenly, an explosion-like a volcano erupting- cannonballs the whole gamete lot into strange space.

  
The newly found environment is different, alien, yet familiar, equally warm, equally dark, equally fast, except, while racing out of Home, the current went downwards, now the current feels like a straight shot up a soft walled corridor, where the ph levels are so drastically different that causes a chemical reaction to unleash over the gamete's body, engulfing it into a protective shield that makes it more slick and slippery when rubbing against its brothers and sisters.

  
It's any gamete's game now. The race is a brutal endeavor. Home is but a faint notion of the past while the newly discovered habitat is not entirely welcoming; in fact, once a lucky gamete roots in its new home, the rest will shuffle aimlessly around the cavernous space, until their mobility falters and their tails disintegrate, eventually dropping inert. Useless. Spent. 'Twas the destiny of the losers, to die off, forgotten, without any other purpose or drive.

  
And then, the gametes reach the last leg of their track, swimming along tubular corridors that arch back into The Chamber. The walls here are spongy, bouncier, fleshy. The tube is lined with Ciliated cells and tube fluids, that act as bristles that brush the gametes from one place to the next. The cilia pushes in the opposite direction of the current of the tube fluid creating an upstream effect for the gametes to fight against. Only fifty or so out of millions of gametes that started the race remain. These are the strongest, fastest, and fittest of all.

  
But the soft folds of the cilia, are not there to foil the progress of the tadpole gametes, on the contrary, while it seems that it forces the horde back, it steadily brings forth a single, very different gamete, down the tube to welcome the winner Home!

  
Ahead in the distance lies the coveted goal: the female gamete, more commonly know as the ovum. Practically stationary by comparison to its male counterparts -careening ever closer towards it- except for the soft tumblings out of its original stores. Round, roughly thirty times larger than the humble spermatozoa that rushed in a mad dash across alien habitats just to fuse with it, the ovum relays on the helpful nudgings of the cilia to move forward, to meet the advancing seedlings, and then, be transported into its final resting place.

  
Our tiny gamete wiggles mightily ahead, its siblings shove beside it. Some get confused and crash into the walls, losing their chance for good. Some start to lose speed for no apparent reason at all, and then there are the ones pushing forward.

  
Three gametes break free from the wave, two reach the outer membrane of the immobile female gamete - the other half of the puzzle - and start the arduous chore of twisting and poking the tips of their heads in, to drill their way to the core to fertilize the gamete host, but our gamete torpedoes through, lashing its tail furiously from side to side, snaking its head into the membrane, piercing its way through its safe haven, knocking the other two out of the way, finally planting itself in the welcoming ovum like the seed it truly is.

  
The ovum embraces the small sperm, accepting the genetic material carried at the base of its head, and immediately, another chemical reaction takes place, hardening the outer membrane of the ovum, literally shutting the door to the rest of gametes forever, locking the one in, completing the mitochondrial information needed to start new life.

  
It's done!

  
Two gametes have fused into a diploid cell.

  
In a matter of hours, it will become a zygote. Two sets of chromosomes have met, and together they’ll weave unique DNA. In days, the diploid cell will divide and reproduce, becoming a human embryo. In just a few weeks, there will be a heartbeat. Soon, other major organs begin to bud: eyes, brain, liver, spine. Limbs will follow. By modern day medicine standards, by the twenty-third week of gestation, the resulting fetus would be viable outside uterus. By the thirty-sixth week, all organs would be fully formed and operational, rendering the fetus a term baby.

  
The beginning of a new person is humble, but also complex; an amazing race; a feat of high-end genetic engineering the human eye doesn’t witness unless explicitly sought out. Some call it biology, others call it the miracle of life.

  
This particular fusing of gametes, is the beginning of a chain of events that will turn the world it belongs to upside down.

  
Everything ever known about the undead will be put into question just because the conception of this embryo is supposedly an impossibility, an aberration against natural courses - It matters not that the mere existence of Vampires is an aberration on itself - yet, the process is now started, unbeknownst to the progenitors. This improbable joining of cells will marry science and myth, the belief that miracles happen even to those who should not give new life, and then... the question will be: Will there be more life after this, anyway?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Ian Malcom, who's quote was feature at the beginning of the chapter, is a fictional character portrayed in Jurassic Park novel, by Michael Crichton. Dr Malcom was brought to life in the silver screen by Jeff Goldblum, on the 1993 Jurassic Park film. (I dedicate the quote to my beloved Hubby, who loves Jurassic Park in any media, and loves movie Malcom) 
> 
> All the scientific terminology used in this prolog have been lifted from several different sources both from books I read while expecting my son and the Internet. The following is a quick cheat-sheet for some of the terms:
> 
> Gamete: male or female cell that merged with a gamete of the opposite gender forms a zygote. Male gametes are called Spermatozoa, sperm for short, comes from the Latin for "Seed". Female gametes are called Ovum, which translates into "Egg".
> 
> Zygote: diploid cell resulting from the fusion of two gametes; a fertilized ovum.
> 
> Embryo: developing fetus.
> 
> Fetus: unborn human baby, eight and above weeks after conception. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my very short prolog for this story. More will come in the next few weeks. We will find out who's gametes we were just spying on :o ;) until then, please kindly comment below :)


	2. Suspicious Behavior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the characters of The Hunger Games.
> 
> Multiple POVs

I'm surrounded by the most strange cloud: thick, fluffy; so dense, the visibility is nearly null. Purples and pinks shift around me, while my movements feel lethargic and slow.

There's something familiar about this atmosphere, like I've been here before, a very long time ago, but my brain can't remember why or when. And then I hear it, the sound sharp and intrusive, immediately dissolving the pastel colored fog surrounding me.

I open my eyes, and the harsh light of the morning sun burns my irises mercilessly. Disoriented and confused, I shoot out of bed, the only thing clear in my muddled head, is that I must get to the bathroom and make sure my wife is alright. 

Even with my superhuman speed, I don't make it to the ajar door of the in-suite bathroom, before another wave of retching noises crash in my ears. 

I enter as quietly as I can, the last thing I want to do is frighten Katniss, but my chest clenches in sympathy watching her bent over the toilet bowl, heaving, gurgling, choking and finally, releasing a ragged sob, so weak, I surmise she's been at it for quite some time already and is now exhausted. 

I have no idea how long she's been here- which is troublesome for a myriad of reasons- but she's shivering something awful and her knuckles are white with the exertion of holding on to the rim of the toilet seat. My poor goddess reduced to a rag doll by the whims of her humanity. 

I move behind her as subtlety as I can, to announce my presence in the room. I can see minute movements in her muscles that show me she's aware I'm here, even if she doesn't acknowledge me right away. I guess, her puking takes precedent for now.

With a damp washcloth in my hand, I kneel next to my beloved, and wipe the sweat off her neck and face, but as soon as the cloth touches her skin, her piercing gray eyes flit to mine, freezing me in place. Even with sick residue in the corner of her mouth, one look from her commands my every nerve ending and every electric pulse in my brain.

My chest feels the jolt of my shriveled up heart at the sight of her eyes. For all intents and purposes, I'm completely useless when faced with her gaze and I'm not ashamed to confess it. 

"Thank you," she rasps leaning into the cloth, giving me permission to continue with attempt at comforting her. "I'm sorry I woke you. I really hope this awful stomach bug will stop soon," she says miserably. 

"Woke me?" I ask a little disconcerted. _So that's what it was earlier? I was asleep._

I hadn't slept pretty much since becoming this creature of darkness, never really felt the need for it. I rest of course, specially if I spend a long time without feeding, and my body weakens, but _sleeping_ , as in shutting down completely and falling into a state of suspended consciousness and inactivity, is something I haven't done for quite some years now. 

"What kind of husband would I be, if I didn't stir up at my wife's distress?" I ask combing back a tendril of her luscious dark hair, behind her ear. "I'd be a terrible husband, that's what." I smile at her, and she tries to return the gesture wanly. "I'm sorry you aren't feeling well. Maybe it was something I made for dinner?" 

She shakes her head taking the washcloth from me, wiping her mouth, seemingly done emptying her stomach finally. 

"I doubt it was the food you made. I've been feeling under the weather for a few days, only this morning I couldn't hold back the retching any longer." 

I sit with my legs crossed on the tiled floor and open my arms for her. She doesn't hesitate climbing into my lap and curling her body into a tight ball against my chest. I wrap my arms around her and start to rock us slightly. 

I untie her messy braid, and comb out of her long hair, the knots she got in her sleep. She sighs contentedly, and burrows her nose into my neck. 

"I love you," her voice muffles into my skin. 

"I love you, too." I answer quietly. "Do you feel better enough to come back to bed?" I place a kiss to her temple as she nods, yawning mightily. 

I chuckle, then carry her in my arms back to our warm love nest.

 

* * *

 

**Johanna's POV**

Its been two days, five hours and fifteen minutes since I've kneeled before my human and  sucked him dry of his seed.

But who's counting?

I was never this cum thirsty for a man before, not even when I was alive myself, but this particular specimen drives me absolutely insane with want and need; I can't stop thinking about him taking pleasure on me: the way he looks, so surprised someone could want him as much as I do, let alone one of my kind having this insaciable hunger for his touch... not what his veins have to offer me, since I've never even dared taste his sweet blood, but all the sexual deliciousness he can give.

I'm a pitiful lump of desire when it comes to Lucca Mellark, like I've never been before, but I promised him I'd patch things up with 'Blondy' before I jump his bones again, and for some reason I can't quite explain, I'm determined to keep my man happy. Even if that happiness depends on the world's most moody vampire. 

I knew Peeta Mellark was going to be more trouble than it was worth my time, but truly he has become an annoying little tag in my favorite blouse, one I can't cut off, because if I do, the designer will drop me like a pile of shit in the sewers. 

Losing Lucca, now that I've found a human that makes me swoon and want to cuddle with a living creature is not an option, which is why I'm making this inconvenient trip to Peety Dearest's home in the woods. It only takes me a fraction of the time it takes Lucca to make the trail, but I can't stand the smell of wet soil. 

Or, at least, _now_ I can't stand it. 

I sigh my melancholy away. I used to love the woods back when I was human, for what feels like eons ago. I used to live in a heavily wooded area of District Seven, where the chief economy was based on lumber. The smell of fresh pine needles and mossy ground, used to make me feel at ease and at home. I miss the enjoyment of those smells. Now, all I can percieve is decay, blood and fear.

Right this second, there's a very appealing aroma wafting in the muggy air of the woods. 

Its not earthly, nor its vegetation. 

The closer I come to Peeta's place, the sweet, inviting smell intensifies. My eyes close for a moment so I can concentrate better in my sense of smell, and I'm almost certain it's Katniss I can perceive, except, there's something else mixed in with her scent. Something fresh and new. 

I slow my pace, I can see the house, and I'm in no hurry to get there, to finally having to confront that little twerp, Peeta, and his over zealous opinions about me and his father. I roll my eyes dreading this encounter already. I'm sure he knows I'm at his door, I'm also sure the insufferable idiot is going to make me wait there too. 

To my surprise, right when I walk past the elaborate wrought iron gates, Peeta steps forward, out of his house, and is making a quick beeline for me. 

"Johanna! Pleasant surprise. Follow me!" He says with barely any inflection in his voice. If I dared guess, I'd say he's worried. "My wife is currently indisposed, so she won't be able to come to the door to grant you permission inside the house--"

"Wait... It's a vampire's nest. Any vampire can come in," I tell him in my best lecturing tone, but he doesn't even slow his steps. 

"Uh, it's actually Katniss' home. I gave it to her, legally and with all the protections her human blood provides. I'm a mere visitor in the place. Couldn't take any chances with my wife's safety, you know."

"Alright." I drag my words while falling into step with him. He looks... distracted. "That's a lot of complications to live with a human that's already protected from others like us," I tell him studying the way he walks, so stiff and purposely, the purse of his lip and the slight frown of his forehead, tells me he's not entirely paying attention to my words, but deep in thoughts. Thoughts that trouble him. 

"Okay, stop! What's going on?" I demand pulling him abruptly short.

He glares, but doesn't fight me; instead he crosses his arms over his chest and frowns for a moment.

"Katniss has been sick for days now, and I'm not sure what to do about it," he finally says.

"Have you taken her to see her mother?" I ask.

"Johanna, she doesn't have a mother," he snaps with murder in his gaze.

I roll my eyes at him, "Fine, that woman her father married." I shrug.

"You mean the woman that fuckard Everdeen _stole_ from _my_ father?" He retaliates with venom. 

Alright, now I'm getting tired of this, "Yes, Peeta. The woman who your father loved enough to give up, so she could be happy, next to the love of _her_ life!" I'm seething.

He only snorts, as if I've just said the silliest thing ever. 

"Ugh! Grow up, Peeta. Let bygones be bygones already, like the rest of the world around you. You're the only brainless still holding a grudge, in case you haven't noticed."

He gives me a derisive laugh, "Last time I checked, Katniss' father still hated me," he answers mirthlessly. "He still can't accept his daughter chose me!" 

"Can you blame the man?" I argue. "I don't see you encouraging your father to run away with me," 

"It's different!" He spits.

"It's not, in the slightest!" 

"It is, Johanna! Dad has been through enough heartbreaks already, he doesn't need another one, specially from a creature that will try to have him for supper any day!"

"I'm not gonna kill Lucca, Peeta, I would rather run to rising sun head on, than hurt him!"

Peeta makes some derisive noise in the back of his throat, but doesn't press the issue anymore.

Any vampire knows it's not a laughing matter when facing the sun is mentioned. There isn't a more painful death for a vampire, than consumed by the purifying light of the sun, claiming a body back to the dust where it belongs, since the soul no longer lingers within; an abandoned, corrupted carcas, used it the aberrant ways of the undead. 

No, not even mighty and high Peeta would dare to call me out on a declaration of loyalty like the one I just professed to his father. Whatever he thinks of me and his old man being together, he knows better than to say something to the contrary... that doesn't stop him from stewing over it, though.

"Suit yourself, Johanna. I have more pressing matters to attend to right now, than trying to babysit my father. He's convinced he's safe with you, and I hope, for your sake, he remains so oblivious to his dangers."

"You worry too much, Blondie! I'm surprised you haven't wrinkled up that pretty face of yours like raisin. Not even being inmortal could save your skin from your brooding." I give him a toothy smile, since he's just conceded, however reluctantly, the fact that his father and I won't stop seeing each other. 

He glares at me, but I don't care. I'm the closest to happy I've been in ages, and his moodiness won't dampen my spirits. 

"I'm not saying that I approve of my father cavorting around with you. You're far more dangerous than he'll ever imagine, but, Katniss says it's a bit hypocritical of me to tell my dad he can't find romance with one of my own kind... as twisted and insane as that sounds. So, whatever. Just don't eat my father, Johanna. Don't mention the times you and I... you know," he makes a face.

I mimick it, because the thought hadn't crossed my mind, but this is a testament of how much I've changed already, a year ago, I would've thought this the most amusing thing ever, but now it's just downright gross!

"Ugh, yuck... hell NO! It's been erased from my memory!" 

"Good," he says equally disgusted. 

Ugh, I knew this friendship with Peeta Mellark was going to be the end of fun Johanna Mason! I miss her! 

"Since we seem to be on the same page," he continues, "I need you give a note to my father. I really need his help on this Katniss thing." 

I agree. He only takes a few moments to get back from inside his house with a folded piece of paper. I'm not about to read it, I was raised with polite manners when I was alive, and although I've existed as an undead far longer than I was alive, I still act under the values my dead mother taught me, so I place the folded note in my pant's pocket and nod at Mr. Sourness. 

"I'll relay your message as soon as the sun sets later this afternoon--"

"No!" He interrupts. "Just go right now. It's early enough, Dad will still be asleep, but he should be getting up to fire up the bakery ovens soon. You'll just have to stay at his place for the day, I'm sure he won't mind as long as you stay out of sight from the townsfolk." He says. 

"Whatever you say, sweetums." I shrug again, although I'm screeching like a teenager on the inside. "I'll be leaving now then," I pause and I glance back at his house. There's a warmth and coziness to it, makes me feel content and at peace just looking. The fragrance of sick Katniss wasfts to me sweetly, there's something very, very pleasant about this aroma, that leads me to believe she'll be fine after all. "I hope your little lady feels better soon." I wish him honestly. 

"Me too." He sighs. 

Then we part ways. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> A huge apology for this chapter being introductory and short, Not covering anything big so far, but I promise I'll work to deepen the plot, as soon as I'm able to. 
> 
> Another apology, Morning Shine will be slow and uneven for a while, since I found out a few weeks ago I'm preggers with my second child! Im excited, tired, and sick. 
> 
> Instead of morning sickness, mine is a whole day, EVERY day affair, that really keeps me frozen half of the day. The other half I spend spoiling my son as much as I can before baby sibling arrives this September. 
> 
> I apologize beforehand for any hiatus I may fall into, I truly am trying to write as much as I can, so I can close up some of my current WiPs before the baby is here, so this story might suffer "back burner syndrome" since it is just starting. Please, bear with me. I truly feel like death reheated at times, and it's affecting my time and willingness to write, but I will finish at least Pixie and Twelveton before the summer is out. 
> 
> Thank you for your understanding and support. You truly are the best!


End file.
